


Rhythm and Movement

by draca (wyvernwolf)



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernwolf/pseuds/draca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was living the music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhythm and Movement

The music weaved it's way between the bodies on the dance floor, embraced by the graceful but confusing the graceless. The throbbing bass was a heartbeat to be followed, the strumming guitar pulsing like the blood running through your veins.

In amongst the moving mass of sweating bodies, Sam was dancing, eyes closed, long lashes sweeping across pale cheeks, arms raised above his head, body feeling the music and moving to the frantic beat with a passionate rawness that caught the eye and inflamed the blood of all around him. Droplets of sweat were making their way down his neck, sticking shirt to skin, but still his feet kept pace with the frenetic beat, body undulating, head thrown back; living the music.

When the music suddenly changed to a sultrier rhythm, Sam easily started moving to the slower beat with a sinuous grace. Every sway of his hips and roll of his shoulders, every arching movement of his neck, all a seductive invitation to anyone watching.

And there was someone watching. Standing in the area overlooking the dancefloor, someone oblivious to the draw of the music. Someone with jealous eyes that sparked green fire at the men and women who flocked around Sam. Each enticed by his impassioned dancing, each drawn to this man who so easily seduced with his boyish smile and exotic eyes.

But Sam paid them no attention, his focus on the music. It was a living thing for him, a lover who swept him up in it's arms and whisked him away to a place where he could forget where he was, who he was and what he was.

Caught up as he was in the music, he never forgot his watcher. The eyes on him burning like a brand, a mark of ownership that he reveled in.

Turning, so that he faced his watcher, his movements slowed, arms coming down, hands running slowly over the back of his neck and chest as he swayed to the now languorous music. His motions now specifically meant for one person.

Still dancing with languid movements, Sam lifted his head and brown eyes met green, and held.

There was no smile, no come hither look. Just a a tilt of a head, and a look from beneath long lashes and Gene was drowning in the promise held within.

-Fin-


End file.
